


he’ll come for one of us

by spillingsunlight (thesisean)



Series: it’s the meaning we all used to seek relentlessly for [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: :), Angst, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Hey, Light Angst, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), THESE ARE ESTABLISHED TAGS WTF, and tubbo feeling that he’s not better than the disc in tommy’s eyes, for today’s menu, its your tubbo tommy angst dealer for today, lowercase intended as usual, may i serve you a nice side of mellohi the disc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27968558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesisean/pseuds/spillingsunlight
Summary: when he reaches, the iron walls are warm, stinging to his wary touch as he glances fingertips across the expanse of the walls. the signs that hang crooked and aggressive squeezes a quiet breath of laughter from deep in his lungs as the swears and threats of ‘DON’T FUCKING GO IN’ stand out. he reads it in tommy’s loud and carefree and annoying voice. he misses it.it’s for him, or for the disc. he’ll come back for either.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: it’s the meaning we all used to seek relentlessly for [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048441
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	he’ll come for one of us

**Author's Note:**

> short because writer’s block and shit  
> inspired by [this post on twitter](https://twitter.com/foolocracy_/status/1336415291379736576?s=21)

he misses tommy. clearly, painfully, a long yearning. he thinks he feels the pull of tommy’s faraway presence, from god-knows-where (dream knows, right?). he thinks it’s fading. faltering, flickering away, dying. but surviving. his heart stutters and aches in his chest. he dances his fingers over the bulge in his pocket. (the compass. ‘your tommy’)

he’s in new l’manburg. as he should. as president. but it feels _wrong_ , feels completely wrong to be breathing and chatting and ruling without tommy by his side. he doesn’t know why he did it. (why he exiled him)

(dream asked. why did he agree with dream? how did he agree with _dream_?)

he hesitates on the wooden path that winds for forever through the dream smp land and into new l’manburg.

it’s a moment before he spins on heels to run towards tommy’s base.

when he reaches, the iron walls are warm, stinging to his wary touch as he glances fingertips across the expanse of the walls. the signs that hang crooked and aggressive squeezes a quiet breath of laughter from deep in his lungs as the swears and threats of ‘DON’T FUCKING GO IN’ stand out. he reads it in tommy’s loud and carefree and annoying voice. he misses it.

the large chests still stand, largely empty and full of miscellaneous items that tommy didn’t deem good enough to be placed in his inventory. his vision pulses at the sight of a pufferfish in a bucket of water, swimming in circles, frantically trying to get out. (stress relievers! stress relievers, tubbo, isn’t that right?)

the wooden door to where he knows is a jukebox and more iron seats stares uncomfortably at him. he can’t bring himself to walk over.

the specific ender chest at the entrance of the base sits quietly, undisturbed, peaceful despite the sheer overwhelming number of times the base had been blown up by creepers. he pauses and his breath hitches unintentionally, and he strides towards it.

he flicks the clasp with a small hand, and he struggles to pull the heavy lid up.

the disc’s propped inside the small chest. mellohi. maybe the real one. tommy’s disc. (not his disc)

_‘the only thing he wants is the only thing i care about!’_

the only thing he cares about. he’s holding the only thing he cares about. his hands tremble with the effort of holding the disc in his weak hands, and he’s _angry_ , angrier than he’s ever been, because how _dare_ tommy care so much about his discs. ~~because how dare he care about a simple disc over him.~~

he wants to break it. he wants to break it so _bad_. it aches in his fingertips, and the anger burns low and hot under his ribcage. (fuck you, tommyinnit)

he hurls it back in. the reflective surface of the disc shows his scrunched-up face, the bags under his eyes prominent, his brown hair a mess, cowlicks everywhere. the purple center of the mellohi disc glints teasingly. he’s all at once hurt, and scared, and sad, and he boils over with emotions that brim and overflow as tears.

will tommy come back? will he come back, if dream ever slips off, leaving tommy himself unguarded and with the compass of _‘your tubbo’?_ will he decide that he wants to see him again, and follow the compass’s red thin needle until he reaches new l’manburg again?

(he _won’t_ )

(he knows this)

he’ll come, he decides, and he chokes back a bitter sob. if not for me. the disc glints when it catches a sliver of sunlight.

_he’ll come back for one of us, right?_

(tell me i mean more to you than those discs.)

(but you already told me that they were the things you cared about. the only things you cared about, in this world. no one else.)

(tell me i mean more than those discs.)

~~i don’t.~~

_as long as he comes back._ he tells himself. he tricks himself into thinking that the buzz in his head is a lie, the pounding in his temple and the way his ears ring and shut down any semblance of noise around him.

_i just want him back._

(i do)

he knows of the red vines that creep and consume, of how badboyhalo of the badlands seems weirdly entranced by them, how wary everyone is of the red tendrils. it’s creeping everywhere, enveloping all of the dream smp. it’s coming for new l’manburg too. he should _care_.

he knows of the secondary feud between ‘mexican l’manburg’ and dream. el rapids? maybe. they are fighting a war that he doesn’t want to be involved in.

(how do the residents of new l’manburg feel, right now? scared, seeing their president so distant? uneasy, since their beacon of hope was exiled to lands unknown to the dream smp? terrified, of the red vines that wrap everywhere and everything?)

where’s phil? understandably with technoblade, retired or something in a land far away. (with tommy?)

wilbur’s ghost. tommy’s with wilbur’s ghost. he hopes it helps him keep his remaining sanity and provide resistance to dream’s manipulative game of chess. (didn’t dream play chess with him just yesterday?)

he glances at the disc mellohi one last time, and he stands, tugging the lid down, and it shuts with a loud slam in onto the disc.

he hopes tommy comes back. if not for him, for mellohi. at least. alive.

_please be alive._


End file.
